What if
by Bandit-Rahl
Summary: What if the ship that blew up wasn't Rem's? What if she had actually lived on the planet? This is how and what happens when Vash finds out. I've just fixed some chapter 7 problems, so take a look. R&R! Don't spare my feelings!
1. Return of Vash the Stampede

Note: I don't own any of the Trigun characters, they are owned by Nightow, Pioneer, ADV, and some others.

Water was raining down around all of the townspeople when Vash walked back into the town. With Knives slung over one shoulder of his brown body armor and Wolfwood's Cross Punisher strapped across his back, he stopped just outside of the downpour. Ahead of him, about sixty yards away, stood Meryl and Millie. A small smile crossed his face. After what they had shared on the cliff nearly a week earlier, he was especially happy to see Meryl. The smile quickly disappeared. She had done that with the "Love and Peace" Vash. He didn't know how she would react to his new philosophy.

He let Knives slide to the ground but, before he could call out, saw a shiver run down Meryl's spine. Her back straightened and she reached out to grab Millie's sleeve. Ever so slowly, her head turned.

When she caught sight of him, a look of unbridled delight took over her face. Millie was still turning to look when Meryl let go of her and started running. Vash stood still, not moving until he caught her when she vaulted over Knives' still form.

"Vash!" she shrieked his name, causing him to wince as he wrapped his arms around her slight shape. Meryl kicked the two pistols he wore, trying to wrap her legs around him in an attempt to hold him closer.

Millie skidded to a stop just a few feet behind Meryl. "Hey, Mr. Vash!" she greeted him with a typical Millie style grin.

Vash set Meryl down on her feet and waved at Millie. "Hi, Millie. Surprised to see me?"

The tall woman shook her head. "I knew you would come back."

The gunman looked down at Meryl, who was still clutching him around the waist. Before he could speak to her, she asked, "Is that him?"

He shifted his gaze from the shorter woman to his brother. "Yeah."

Meryl reluctantly let her arms drop and started to jog towards the front door of their house. "Well, pick him up," she began in a resigned tone. "I'll get a bed ready inside to put him in."

"You don't need to do that." Vash said the words quietly, yet they stopped Meryl in her tracks.

She didn't turn around to answer him. "Yes, I do. He's your brother."

"He's also dead."

Meryl's slightly stooped posture straightened. "Dead?"

Vash rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. With the townspeople beginning to crowd around, he didn't want to discuss this now.

"Do you need help, Mr. Vash the Stampede?" The question was asked by an old, slouched man with a droopy white mustache.

"Thank you, sir, I do," Vash replied with his trademark enthusiasm. "My brother here will need a proper grave. If you could point out the person to talk to, I would be really thankful."

The old man nodded. "That would be me," he answered. "I _am_ this little town's mayor, after all. I would be glad to have the town cover the cost of this man's burial, as our gift to you. With how we treated you, we are simply grateful that you have been so kind to us."

Vash started patting the man on the back. "Oh, thank you! Thank you! By the way," he asked conspirationally, "is there still somewhere in this town to buy donuts?"

"Of course," the elderly mayor answered with a smile as he tried to regain his balance. "Miss Meryl has opened up her own donut shop. The best I've ever had."

"Meryl?" he asked, casting a dubious look at the back of the petite, dark haired woman. "Oh, by the way, can you tell me where I should carry my brother's body?" All at once, his enthusiastic attitude was gone, replaced by the quiet air of a man with a lot on his mind.

"Don't worry." A tall brown haired man stepped forward. Vash recognized the man who had drug him around the town behind his car. "I'll take him to the town morgue."

The Humanoid Typhoon nodded his thanks, then turned and walked up to Meryl, who still had her back to him. "Am I still welcome to stay here with you two?" he asked.

Meryl gave him a mock glare. "Of course." Abruptly, wide eyed shock replaced the glare.

"Oh, no! There might be a problem," she told Vash. Millie undid the straps holding the Cross Punisher to Vash's back and hugged it.

"Right, Meryl," Millie spoke up through sudden tears. "Since we've been renting out the third bedroom, we don't have anywhere he can sleep."

"It's okay, Insurance Girls," the gunman told them. "I'll just put myself up in the inn. Problem solved."

Meryl adamantly shook her head. "No way. Would you mind sleeping on the floor?"

"Huh?" Vash asked, somewhat surprised by the question.

The short woman nodded at Millie, who was entering the house while still cradling her dead lover's weapon. "Millie will probably be needing her time at night alone. But if you want, you can sleep on the floor in my room."

"Really? In your room? With you?" His enthusiasm resurfaced. "We just can't make too much noise," he joked.

The next thing he knew, he was looking up and seeing two images of the mayor from where he lay sprawled in the street. "I hope you learned you lesson, young man," they said in tandem. "Everyone else knows not to make her mad."

"Oooohhh, ouch," Vash moaned as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it. Over to one side he could hear Meryl muttering something about children in men's bodies as she stomped through the house's front door. Vash grinned as the doubles he was seeing finally coalesced into a single image. It was good to be back with his friends.


	2. The Journey Begins

"So Knives is dead."

Vash had been lying in his makeshift bed on the floor, about ten feet from Meryl's bed for over an hour. In that time, this was the first thing to be said.

"How did you do it?" Meryl asked him quietly. "After Legato . . . And then to do it to your brother . . . Why aren't you all broken up about it?"

The Humanoid Typhoon took a deep breath and pushed his blanket down around his waist. _Why is it so hot in here?_ he silently wondered. "That was the answer you gave me," he said aloud.

He could hear the confusion in her voice. "How did I give you that answer?"

Vash rolled over onto his side so that he was facing her. "When I thought about it, there are two extremes I've seen where killing is concerned: the one Rem taught me, and the one Knives lived by. It was impossible for me to come to terms with it all until I heard you say Rem's philosophy."

"How did that help?"

The gunman rolled back onto his back, resting one hand underneath his head and the other across his stomach. "I realized that you are the balance. You were willing to kill if necessary, but only if you could see no other option. Once I understood that, I realized that I can kill . . . But only if it's someone who will go homicidal like Legato."

"Or Knives." He could hear the rustle of her blanket as she moved around.

"Yeah," he said slowly, "or Knives. Because when someone becomes like that, they have already given up their lives; they are dead inside, and want others to join them in death."

Meryl's confusion turned to humor. "Those are deep thoughts for a hundred and thirty year old child."

"Child?" Vash sat up, sounding offended.

"Of course," she needled. "After all, you do enjoy singing that children's song.

__

"So... On the first evening,

a pebble falls to the dreaming world."

Vash smiled as he listened to the first verse of the song Rem had sung to him so long ago. When he finished, he began to sing the second.

__

"So... On the second celestial evening,

All the children of the pebble

Join hands and compose a waltz.

Sound life."

"Vash . . ." Meryl said his name so softly, he wondered if it was his imagination speaking.

He decided to take a chance and answered her. "Yes, Insurance Girl?"

"Vash, I'm cold."

The gunman frowned. "I can give you my blanket, if you want."

He could hear her shake her head. "No, that wont help. Would you , uh, sleep up, uh, here with me?" she asked, blurting out the last part.

In answer, he silently moved out from under his blanket. It was dark enough in the room that she couldn't see him move but, with his sharp eyes he could see clearly. Without making a noise he moved nearer to his bed.

"Vash?" He smiled. Now she sounded embarrassed.

He reached out and gently touched her face. She jumped, having not realized just how close he was in the pitch black room. Ever so slowly, he bent over and kissed her. 

"Yes," he whispered.

************************************************************************

In the early morning, Vash and Meryl lay with their limbs intertwined, radiating the afterglow of loving. With his eyes half closed, and his mind half asleep, Vash started humming the song again.

Meryl laughed against his chest, bringing him fully awake. He frowned down at her. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she answered with a sigh. "I'd just been wondering for the last week where I had heard the song before, and I just remembered. My Grandma Saverem used to sing it to me when I stayed with her."

Vash sat up in a rush, knocking Meryl out of the bed. "Your Grandma who?"

Meryl stood up and pulled a sheet around her body. "Saverem," she answered, taking in the look of complete shock on his face.

"That's not possible," he whispered, staring blankly at the wall. "There was no other person with the name Saverem on any of the ships. It can't be true." An intense look came into his eyes, and he fixed her with his piercing gaze. "Do you remember: What was her first name?"

The small insurance woman sat down on the edge of the bed to think. "Renee? No. Remada? Seems close. Raina? Definitely not. Oh, I don't know. Maybe-"

"Rem," Vash whispered the name staring blankly at the wall once again. "Her name must have been Rem. But it can't be. I saw the ship blow up. Didn't I? Knives blew it up. Didn't he?"

He gave her that piecing look again. "Can you take me to her?" He demanded.

Meryl looked shock. "Uh, Vash, she died nineteen years ago. When I was about three."

"If Rem was twenty-four when I was born," Vash mused, "Then that would make her a hundred and fifty-five now. If she died nineteen years ago that would make her a hundred and thirty six when she died."

The small dark haired woman shook her head. "Then they can't be the same person," she told the blonde man. "Grandma Saverem looked no older than maybe forty when she died."

The sixty billion double dollar man jumped out of the bed and began to pull on his clothes. When he noticed that Meryl hadn't moved, he paused. "Come on!" he shouted with the typical Vash enthusiasm. He threw her pants at her along with a fresh pair of underwear from her dresser. "Get dressed! We need to get Millie and get going! This is important."

He turned away from her, now fully clothed in his body armor, to dig through his travel pack. From the bottom, he pulled out one of the red coats he was always wearing.

After they had woken Millie up and they had eaten breakfast, Meryl left to speak to the mayor about their leaving the house. Vash had sent a simple message with her, to be placed on his brother's tombstone, reading "Millions Knives. Freeborn Plant and Brother."

While Millie was busy packing up her stuff, Vash stood on the front porch of the house. His pushed his yellow glasses up on his nose then rested his hands on his pistols, the right hand on the silver one and the left on the black. His pistol and Knives'. Now both his.

"It's okay, Rem," he said to the sun. "I'm coming. I'm coming to see you."


	3. Theories

They were only about twenty iles from the city of LH before anyone in the small car spoke. For most of the trip, Millie and Meryl simply hung on to anything they could grab and prayed to whatever powers there were that they would live through the trip as the car pranced from dune to dune. Vash was hunched over the steering wheel, the look of a crazy man on his face as he drove.

"Hey, Mr. Vash," Millie shouted over the howl of the car's engine, "why did we have to leave so quickly? You've only been back one night."

Vash smiled at her over his shoulder, throwing Meryl into a more serious series of fits as he took his eyes off of where he was going. "Sorry. It's just that Meryl told me something important, and I really want to take a look."

Millie opened her mouth to ask Meryl what she had told him when Vash goosed the accelerator, speeding the car up even more. Quickly, she shut her mouth in an attempt to hold down her breakfast.

When they arrived in the town, the first thing Meryl did was punch Vash. "What was that for?" the gunman demanded, looking surprised.

She didn't bother to explain her reasons, she just stomped past him to pay the gas station attendant. When the car's tank had been filled up and Vash started to sit back down in the driver's seat, Meryl was there to stop him.

"I don't think so," she shouted, grabbing his coat by the back of the neck and yanking him backwards.

"Oh, come on!" the tall, blonde man protested. "I was just having some fun. I'll drive slower this time, really!"

The small woman shook her head sharply. "No way. I'm driving this time. I swear, I don't think you ever really learned how to drive. All you do is try to pull some stupid stunt."

"But-"

"I think she's right, Mr. Vash," Millie spoke up. "I think it really will be safer this way."

Meryl gave Vash a sweet little smile. "There you go, two against one." She placed her hand against his breast bone, then gave him a hard shove, knocking him flat on the ground on his backside. "And Millie gets to ride in the front," she finished in a tone sweet enough to match her smile.

"Oh, really, Meryl?" the tall girl asked excitedly. "Is it really okay, Mr. Vash? Can I ride up front?"

Vash opened his mouth to say something, but ended up simply gulping air like a fish. "Of course you can, Millie," Meryl answered for him, slamming the driver's door closed. "Vash doesn't mind, do you Vash."

He shook his head ruefully and stood up, dusting himself off. After shutting his door, he laid down across the back seat and pushed his yellow sunglasses up his nose. Meryl drove for several hours in silence, before a question that she had to ask popped into her mind.

"Vash?" His answer was a grunt. "I'm wondering, if Rem was on one of the ships that crashed almost a hundred and forty years ago, and was about twenty-four years old then, how could she still be alive until nineteen years ago? And how could she look as young as she did?"

The tall gunman sighed and sat up. "The answer to that is a theory. On that SEEDS ship where Brad died, the lead doctor had some ideas. He noted that the people who spent a good deal of time around plants tended to live longer natural lives."

"But as far as I knew, Grandma Saverem never went anywhere near a plant."

Vash leaned forward and rested his head on his hands on the seat back between Meryl and Millie. "If your grandma really was Rem, then she did spend time around plants, after a fashion. Rem was like a mother for me and Knives after we were born. We aren't technically plants, but something more. Plants can't move about freely, but I can. While I can still talk to them, and generate power like them, I can generate more. I can control them. I can _recharge_ them. The doctor thought that if a plant could help someone live longer, being around Knives or I could extend that even farther."

Millie gave an "Ooohhh" of awe, but Meryl just shook her head. "But it's just an theory," she pointed out. "That means it hasn't been proven."

"It has now," Vas told her, leaning back in his seat. "Legato."

"I don't understand."

"Legato was about twenty when Knives recruited him thirty years ago," Vash explained. "How old did he look when he died?"

Meryl didn't answer, but Millie did. "Twenty?" she supplied helpfully with a big grin.

Vash nodded. "Twenty. And that was living around just Knives. Rem lived with _both_ Knives and I for at least a year. That could have been more than enough to extend her life like that."

"But . . .How . . . What does that mean for Millie and I?" Meryl demanded in a strained voice. "We've spent at least three years either with you or close behind."*

He stretched and yawned, pulling his glasses off with two fingers and tucking them inside a pocket. "Well," he shouted enthusiastically, "I guess that mean's that if you eat well and exercise regularly and don't get sick, you could live a long time!"

His only warning was Meryl's groan before her fist caught him in the forehead and knocked him reeling. "I ask him a serious question, and all he does is make it a joke!" he heard her dimly say.

Millie's concerned visage swam into view over the back of the front seat. "Are you okay, Mr. Vash?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Never better," he smiled, giving her a thumbs up. He laid down as much as possible in the small car's rear seat. "Hey, Meryl."

"What?" she snapped.

"Are we there yet?"


	4. Wardrobe

Even with Meryl's conservative driving and after a trip by sand steamer, it took nearly three weeks to get back to SEEDS City. The entire trip grated on Meryl's nerves; with Vash so happy and enthusiastic about everything and Millie temporarily forgetting about Wolfwood enough to match his attitude she felt like she was babysitting. That feeling persisted when, immediately upon arriving in the city, she had to quickly usher Vash into the apartment she had there.

"Sit down!" she ordered him, pushing him toward a couch. 

"But why?" he pouted, his red coat flapping behind him as he moved. "I want to go shopping, and I'm starving! There's gotta be someplace nearby that sells salmon sandwiches or donuts! I can hear them calling to me."

"They're going to be calling you unconscious in a moment," the petite woman growled as she stomped towards him. "Think for a moment, you irresponsible man! If people out there start seeing a tall blonde man wearing a red coat, carrying two large handguns, and with earrings, who are they going to think he is?"

"Vash the Stampede!" he hollered, striking a pose. "The Humanoid Typhoon! Ace gunman, gorgeous man, and friend to all!"

Meryl shook her head and turned around. "Stupid idiot. Stupid _man_," she snarled, staring at the white wall of her sometime living space.

"But you're still worth sixty billion double dollars, aren't you?" Millie asked, setting the Cross Punisher against the wall with a thump.

Vash opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. "Oh, yeah, I am kinda valuable, aren't I?" he admitted, rubbing the back of his head and sitting down.

The shorter insurance woman took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, then turned back around to speak. "You need to stay here. Millie can go get you some food, and I'll go buy you some new clothes," she told him in a softer tone.

"Do you need some money?" Vash asked, digging in a pocket. He pulled out a wad of bills and started leafing through them. He handed forty double dollars to Millie, and about a thousand to Meryl. "Split the money between donuts and salmon," he told the tall girl. "And the rest is for my clothes. I want-"

Meryl snatched the wad of cash from his hand, and almost laughed at the shocked look on his face. "I'll pick out what I think is best," she interrupted. "You would probably choose something that would make you just as identifiable as that red coat. No arguing," she held up her index finger. "I'll be back in about two hours. Millie, let's go."

Millie was back less than half an hour later with two dozen donuts and four salmon sandwiches. She barely made it to the apartment's kitchen before he had his hands in the donut boxes, poking his fingers through the donut holes and eating them in two or three bites each. The tall girl sat across from him with a smile, watching him eat as though he would never see food again.

Vash was licking the last bits of salmon from his fingers when she finally spoke. "Mr. Vash, I have to ask. Where did you bury Nicholas?"

The gunman froze with his tongue against one of his fingers. He picked up a napkin to wipe his hands off with and leaned back in his chair with a serious expression on his face. "I never told you?" he asked. When she shook her head, he went on. "I dug a hole in the floor of the church, right in front of the altar where I found him. I even carved an inscription on the marble altar itself."

"What-" Millie interrupted herself with a sniff as her eyes filled with tears. "What did it say, Mr. Vash?"

The blonde gunman looked up at the ceiling. If he looked at her tears much longer, he was going to cry himself. "It said," he answered slowly, "Here lies Nicholas D. Wolfwood, killed protecting life. May you go with God's protection."

Millie knocked the table away and tackled him. "Hey!" he shrieked. "Please! Don't hurt me!"

It took a moment before he realized that she was sobbing. "Thank you, Mr. Vash," she sobbed into his chest. "I know it means a lot to him because it means a lot to me."

Lying flat on the floor on his chair, Vash patted her on the back. "It's okay, Millie. You're both very welcome."

When Meryl came back, Millie was still crying and Vash, unfortunately, was still lying on the uncomfortable chair. Meryl dropped the bags of clothing and, without a second thought, tried to comfort her friend.

"I'm okay, Meryl," she said, wiping her face and standing up. She offered Vash her hand to help him up. "So, what did you buy him?" she quickly asked to keep Meryl from asking about her tears.

Before Meryl could answer, Vash was up and digging through the bags. "Yeah, what did you get me? I hope my money was well spent, but, well, now it's looking like my hopes were too-"

The dark haired woman snatched the bags away from him. "First things first," she said. "Where did you get so much money?"

Vash gave her a look that said he was offended. "I'm almost a hundred and forty years old," he answered in a hurt tone. "I made some investments."

"Like what?"

He gave her a wicked grin. "There was one in particular that really paid off. About ninety years ago, after I spent years working hard, I put all of my hard earned money into a little insurance company."

Meryl froze in shock. "No . . ."

He puffed his chest up and put his hands on his hips. "You are looking at one of the founders of the Bernardelli Insurance Agency."

"Oh, no," she moaned. "Which one of the six were you?"

He put a finger to his nose. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

She growled and dug around in the bags for a moment, then started piling clothes in Vash's arms. "Here," she ordered, "go put these on."

Twenty minutes later, Vash stared ruefully at the mirror. A quick check of all the clothes Meryl had bought showed that they were all in keeping with the style he now wore. Instead of his red coat and body armor, he now wore a black Thomas-leather trench coat, a red shirt, black slacks, and a pair of black boots.

"Oh, no," he said to himself. He looked out the window and up at the sky. "Oh, Rem. Listen. I've done a very bad thing. I let your grandaughter choose my wardrobe.

"What will I do now?"


	5. Meet the Parents

"Stop picking at them," Meryl ordered when she noticed Vash fidgeting with his jacket's buttons.

"Sorry. Nervous habit."

Meryl frowned as she drove. "What is there to be nervous about?"

"Well," he leaned over and whispered, "I'm going to be meeting your parents. I shouldn't be nervous about their finding out that I've been shmoozing-"

"Shmoozing!?!" she shrieked, further infuriated by Millie's giggle.

"-with their daughter for the last month?"

Millie's giggle erupted into a full fledged laugh. "What is so funny, Millie?" Meryl demanded hotly.

"Really, Meryl," the tall woman said once she had caught her breath, "I'd be surprised if they don't already know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Millie blushed. "Well, the people in the apartments around yours, and in the rooms next to ours on that sand steamer already know. And news travels fast."

Meryl flushed a deep red and concentrated on where she was driving. After an uncomfortable silence, she said, "We'll be at my parents' house in about fifteen minutes. Please don't embarrass me. No jokes," she ordered Vash.

He stared out the side window, looking preoccupied. The expression on his face gave Meryl the shivers: It was the look he had whenever he was involved in a life and death situation. When Meryl and Millie both tried to get his attention, both of them failed.

Vash didn't react until the car stopped in front of a large house outside of a small town. The first thing he did was tuck his two handguns underneath the seat. Meryl left her cloak on the driver's seat, and Millie took the Cross Punisher off of the vehicle's roof and set it onto the backseat floor.

Meryl walked around the car and came up next to the obviously nervous gunman. "Well," she said, linking her arm through his and frowning at an unfamiliar black cat sitting on the front porch of her parents' house, "let's go meet my parents."

The door was answered by Meryl's mother, a dark haired woman slightly taller than her daughter. "Meryl? Is that really you?" the older woman asked.

The petite woman let go of Vash to hug her mother. "I came for a short visit," she said.

"Who is it, Mary?" a deep voice from inside the house asked.

Meryl's mother turned her head. "It's Meryl, Jonathon," she called back. "She's here for a visit, and she brought some friends."

A tall, distinguished looking man with graying brown hair came to the door. "Well, I recognize Millie back there. Haven't seen her since just after Vash the Stampede destroyed Augusta. Hi, Millie."

Millie waved over the shoulder of the suddenly pale Vash. "And who is this young man?" Mary asked.

Meryl started to answer for him, but the gunman cut her off before she could say anything. "Ericks," he answered quickly, sticking his arm to shake Jonathon's hand. "My name is Ericks."

The older man took in Vash and Meryl's linked arms with a glance. "Well, come on in. A friend of our daughter's is a friend of ours. Millie knows that."

"Yup," the tall woman chirped, pushing her way in between Vash and Meryl. "Thank you, Mr. Stryfe."

The conversation continued in the sitting room, where the five of them were arrayed on a handful of couches and lounge chairs. "So, what brings you all out here?" Jonathon asked. "Meryl doesn't visit very often, so I doubt it's to let us meet her latest boyfriend."

Vash coughed uncomfortably. Meryl, blushing again, spoke up. "Actually, Vash-er, Ericks here just heard about Grandma Saverem and had some questions he wanted to ask."

Meryl's mother gave the blonde haired man a suspicious look. "And why would he be interested in a woman who died almost twenty years ago?"

"Because-"

"Please," Vash interjected quietly, "tell me. Was her name Rem?"

Jonathon sat up straight. "Why do you ask?"

Mary held her hand out to her husband. "Only two people we know of know that name," she said. "What is it's importance to you?"

Vash ran his hand through his spiked hair. "Someone I, uh, know told me about her. And how important she was to him, all the way back to when the ships crashed on this planet." He leaned forward suddenly, gazing intently at the older woman. "Please tell me, was that her name?"

"Yes," she answered in a whisper. Slowly, she stood up. "Please wait for a moment," she requested. "I'll be right back."

She was gone for almost five minutes upstairs, rummaging around in one of the rooms. Almost unconsciously, Vash reached over and took Meryl's hand in his own; the movement wasn't lost on Jonathon, whose suspicious look turned outright hostile.

When Mary came back to the sitting room, she stopped directly in front of Vash. "Here," she said. "Momma told me that one day, either a tall blonde man or a tall white haired man would come here asking about her. When that happened, she said, I was to give them this. They would know what to do with it."

She handed him a disk shaped object that was about four inches thick. In the center of the top was what almost looked like a light bulb. Jonathon leaned forward and pointed at the object. "Do you know what that is?" he asked, his hostility temporarily forgotten. "We haven't been able to figure it out."

"I know," Vash nodded. "If you rub your finger against this edge here, a small needle will come out. It draws a single drop of blood, correct?"

Mary nodded. "But what is it?"

The Humanoid Typhoon turned the object around in his hands. "Smaller versions of these were used to record holographs, which is images made out of light. They even had enough memory to run small programs. One this size," he continued, hefting the machine in one hand, "has enough memory to have stored brain waves, knowledge, and personality information. Someone showed that to me, once. The hologram acted just like her, sounded like her, even said the same kind of things she would."

A heavy silence fell across the room. "What are you going to do now?" Meryl asked.

In answer, Vash ran his finger across the edge of the disk. He jerked slightly when the needle pricked him, then listened as the machine started to hum. "The needle tests the blood," he told the group of people watching him. "If the right DNA is detected, then the holographic generator will activate, and the program will run."

All at once, a blaze of light erupted out of the top of the generator. Vash got up and set it on the floor in the middle of the room, then sat back down. The beams of light quickly coalesced into the shape of a woman with long dark hair.

"Well," the image of an older Rem Saverem said. "If it isn't Ericks Vash. Or should I say Vash the Stampede?"


	6. From the Shadows

This is going to be a short chapter. I had been planning to put this in from the beginning, and after it was pointed out to me that the story needed a villain, my twisted mind came up with this scenario. Don't worry if you can't figure it out, all will be made clear by, oh, chapter eight or so. There-ish. I think. 

Anyways, thanks for reading. I should be uploading chapter seven in another day or two. 

Please send me reviews! Thanks to those who have, I look forward to hearing from anyone with comments. I'll take flames, compliments, answer questions (within reason. I don't want to explain what's going to happen later), so talk to me.

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The lab that the man stood in was unknown to everyone; buried inside several thousand tons of steel that was covered in hundreds of tons of sand. The unconscious person lying on the table in front of him was dead to everyone who had known him. And even though he now lived, he would remain dead to them. He would see to that.

"Wake up."

His voice was soft as silk, yet had an edge to it that threatened to cut. The body lying on the table stirred, and the machines hooked up to it continued to monitor it's condition.

"What are your wishes, my master?" the croaked reply was twisted by an unusual accent.

A sadistic smile twisted the other man's face. The blue lights of the room highlighted his pale blonde hair and shined off of the iris' of his blue eyes. "It worked again," he murmured to himself. "I thought it would after the first, but it's good to know I was right."

"Master?"

The man waved his hand at his servant, silencing him. "I cloned myself as a test," he mused. "And now that clone is dead. I will get the one responsible."

He looked down at the man on the table. "I will get back at him with the lowlifes he loves; with the best friend he had among them. That will be my vengeance. That will be my _joy_."

Monitors issued shrill beeps as the man on the table sat up. Pain shined in his grey-blue eyes, and his black hair seemed to glow in the dim lighting.

"You have adapted quickly," the master congratulated him. "Faster than I thought you would be able to. Come," he quickly turned away and walked across the lab. Behind him, the servant tore electrodes from his body and followed. He moaned in pain as he followed faithfully.

"Master. Who am I? How come I can't remember anything?"

The other man stopped next another table. Lying on it was a large metal cross. "You will be my weapon," he said over his shoulder, "and this will be your weapon. Press here like this, and it separates into two machine guns." He demonstrated the action as he spoke. "For your purposes, it would be best to carry it as a cross until you need it.

"You do remember how to shoot?" he asked after a pause.

His answer was a quick nod. "I am one of the best. I know there's someone better, but I can't remember who."

"That is inconsequential," the man with pale blonde hair waved off the memory lapse. "You will remember nothing about anything. All you will know is that you live to carry out my orders. And you will die to carry out my orders, whichever will make me happy."

"Okay, Master."

The lead man picked up a set of clothes off of the floor and handed it to the other man. "Put these on," he ordered. "In the pockets is money; more than enough for you to carry out your mission."

"What mission is that, Master?" the dark haired man asked as he donned the dark suit and white shirt. 

"It is simple, my servant. The previous owner of your weapon was known as Chapel the Evergreen. He is dead, killed in the line of doing his duty. From this moment on, _you_ will be known as Chapel the Evergreen. My servant."

"As you wish."

"And under that name," he finished, his eyes glinting evilly, "you will kill Vash the Stampede."


	7. Past Becomes Present, Present Becomes Fu...

Author's Note: Some problems with what Rem and Vash said in this chapter were brought to my attention, so I tried my best to fix them. I think you'll find that it is much less out of character for them. If you feel otherwise, please write me a note to let me know. Thank you.

"I'm actually surprised to see you, Vash," the image of Rem said with a smile. "I expected Knives to be the one to get this."

Vash put on his poker face. "Knives won't be getting anything ever again."

The hologram sat down on an invisible chair. "I'm sorry," she said. "How did it happen?"

A tear crept out of the corner of one of his eyes. "I tracked him down. It started with July, and what he did there. For the last thirty some years, I moved all over this planet trying to find him. Every single life he took, every person his Gun Ho Guns killed has been blamed on me. When I finally caught him, I was only going to try to change his mind."

"And then?" Rem asked, giving him an encouraging nod.

"And then I shot him." Vash's mask slipped, and he started to cry in earnest. "I shot him five times. I was going to end it there, and shoot him myself. In the time it took me to decide to help him, he bled to death. I wanted to help him, he was my brother. I bandaged him up so he could look dignified in death, and carried him to a town so he could have a decent burial."

"I am so sorry," the long haired image told him. Meryl grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "But I can tell from your expression that Knives took something more from you, didn't he?"

Vash's head came up, his tears erased by a sudden blaze of anger. On the other side of the hologram, Meryl's parents gasped in fear at the look on his face. "Yes," the blonde gunman said slowly. "He took the one man I called a friend. He had him killed just to get to me."

"And my granddaughter?" Rem asked. "Has she been a comfort to you?"

"She has," he answered with a smile, his anger once again hidden. "She gave me the answer that allowed me to kill him."

Rem leaned forward on her invisible chair. "And what was the answer?" she asked intently.

"The answer is that love and peace have their place, but it does not cover all. She helped me to realize that when someone is dead inside, they want to kill so that others will be dead also. It is then that we do have the right to take the life of another. It is okay to take the life of a killer to save the lives of innocents."

"I'm proud of you, Vash," the hologram told him. "Even though by now I am long dead, I am proud of you. And terribly sorry. I learned that myself, but it took me nearly a hundred years; even though it wounded my heart, I tried to teach it to Meryl so that she would know. I knew deep in my soul that she would meet you, and I hoped that if you hadn't already learned that, then she could help teach you by example. I dreaded what would happen to you if you learned it by other means. You're such a kind-hearted person, and I know that that lesson has hurt you even more than it hurt me. I wish you had never had to learn this. I wish it hadn't been through that horrible experience."

Vash nodded, a single tear coursing down his cheek. "She did teach me. I just didn't realize it soon enough. Thank you, Rem."

The dead woman nodded and sat back in the non-existent chair. "I knew that somewhere in your long life, this lesson would become necessary. Though I might have hoped and prayed otherwise, ignorance is not bliss. That is all this hologram was created for," she said, crying holographic tears. "Just to make sure you learned this lesson. If you wish, you can keep this safe, to ask for help or advice from me whenever you need it. But if you don't wish that, I must ask you to destroy it. All my knowledge about you must never reach the wrong hands."

The tall man let go of Meryl and got down on one knee. "It was nice to see you again, Rem," he told the hologram. He pushed the deactivation button on the side of the machine. "Thank you."

When he sat back down next to Meryl and tucked the holographic generator in his pocket, he noticed that Meryl's parents where staring at him.

"Vash the Stampede?" Jonathon asked in a choked voice.

"How did you know Mom?" Mary cut in before her husband could say anything else. "You only look like you're twenty. And July happened about thirty-four years ago. How is this all possible?"

"That is a long story," Vash told them in a quiet, serious tone. "And I am sorry, but right now I find myself rather exhausted. Meryl said we would be able to stay here, but I can understand it if you would rather I stay at an inn."

Jonathon started speaking first. "That would probably be-"

"Nonsense," Meryl's mother interrupted her husband with a wave of her hand. "A friend of Mom's is a friend of mine. You can stay in the guest room. I'll prepare Meryl's old room for her and Millie to share."

Vash bowed his head. "Thank you, Ma'am."

"Actually," Meryl spoke up, "I would prefer to room with Vash."

Her father's eyes narrowed menacingly, but her mother nodded her acquiescence.

At midnight that night, Vash and Meryl lay awake in each other's arms. "Why didn't you tell me your first name is Ericks?" she asked him softly as she traced the scars on his chest.

His grip on her tightened. "My name is somewhat different," he answered in a whisper. "Vash is the familiar. If I was named like everyone else, my name would be Vash Ericks. Calling me Ericks is like calling me by my last name. Even Rem only called me Vash."

"So," Meryl asked, "when we get married, does that make me Mrs. Ericks, Mrs. Vash, or does that make you Mr. Stryfe?"

"Married!?!" Vash nearly jumped out of the bed. "What are you saying?"

Meryl tugged on his arm, pulling him back down into her embrace. "Don't act surprised," she told him with a smile. "I found the ring in it's box in your travel bag with a note. On the note, you had written down your entire proposal speech."

Vash gulped air and started looking around for a place to hide. "How long ago was that?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.

His lover caught on to what he was doing, and she grabbed his arm with both of her hands. "You aren't going anywhere, Vash the Stampede," she told him. "Actually, I found it while you were trying on the clothes I had bought you back in SEEDS City, while I was throwing out most of your old stuff."

"Oh, damn."

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I didn't throw away your red coat. It's in a suitcase in the trunk of the car."

The Humanoid Typhoon was silent for a moment. "So?"

"So what?"

"Will you?"

Meryl's amusement vanished and she gave an exasperated sigh. "Will I what?"

"Will you marry me, Insurance Girl?"


	8. Transformation

Several weeks later, the entire group was sitting out on the front porch of the house. Meryl, Millie, and Mary were sitting around a round table, discussing wedding preparations. Jonathon and Vash sat about fifteen feet away, Meryl's father with his back to the women, and Vash facing him.

"To tell the truth, I wasn't very happy about your proposal at first," the older looking man admitted. "But you have Mary to thank for my change of attitude. She insisted that if her mother trusted and loved you, and our daughter decided you were right, then we should accept that you _are _the right man for our daughter."

"Your approval means a lot to me," Vash told his fiancée's father, looking at the wrapped up cross standing behind Millie. It seemed to follow her everywhere she went. "I know I have hurt her in the past, but that was before I realized what she meant to me. You needn't worry about that happening again." His gaze rested on Meryl, and he smiled. She now often found was to sneak little kisses with him, and also found ways to show her feelings for him constantly, beginning with the moment he had proposed to her. This was all new to him, and he found that he rather liked it.

Jonathon nodded. "I realize that now, after getting to know you. After listening to you and Meryl and Millie all explaining your past and the things you have done, I'm confidant that Meryl is doing the right thing with you."

A block away on the other side of the street, a darkly dressed man watched the happy group as they talked. He lit a cigarette and, within a minute, had burned it all the way down to the filter. The man watched them for at least twenty minutes before picking up the large metal cross next to him.

It took only moments for him to get to the other side of the street unnoticed, and another minute to get over next to the house. Next to the home of the Stryfes, and where Vash the Stampede was. Placing his feet far enough apart to brace himself, he separated the cross into it's two components, wincing at the noise of it's separation. Chapel the Evergreen would now complete his mission.

The sound of hydraulics caused Vash to sit up straight in alarm. A hurried glance showed him that Wolfwood's cross, now Millie's, was still wrapped up. And those hydraulics sounded so familiar. 

Sudden realization made him jump out of his chair. Wasting no time with shouted warnings, he tackled Meryl's father. Using the momentum of his leap, he tangled his feet in his chair and kicked it towards the women.

Jonathon's face held an outraged glare. The women's held looks of surprise as the chair slammed into the table with enough force to knock it over. The three of them tumbled over in surprise. Meryl started to shout at Vash, but her outcry was cut off by the sound of bullets tearing through wood. Jonathon gulped for air as the gunman covered his body with his own.

"Stay down!" Vash cried as screaming bullets created billows of dust and smoke as they ripped through the house. The sound of shattering glass and the thump of splintered furniture merged into one sound.

Having somewhat regained his wits, Vash rolled off of the other man and came up in a crouch. A sudden gust of wind brought up another cloud of smoke as he ran, bent over, to where Wolfwood's Cross Punisher was now laying on the porch. A quick flick of his wrist and the latches opened; another flick and the cross opened to reveal double rows of pistols. Vash grabbed two of them and turned to the nearest corner of the house.

The reports of the machine gun's firing suddenly quit, and Vash was up and running. In his dust covered red shirt and black slacks, he skidded around the corner with both guns held up at shoulder height. As soon as he regained his balance, he ran towards the back of the house, his gunfighter's eyes searching for his enemy. 

At the back of the house, there were no footprints. The only reminder of the assailant was a pile of spent shells. Vash quickly looked around, then pocketed a handful of the shells and returned to the front of the house.

The three women and the man quickly began assaulting him with questions. He ignored them all and walked back over to the cross. After putting the two pistols back and closing it up, he activated the cross' machine gun function.

Jonathon and Mary jumped back in surprise when he fired a handful of rounds into the dirt of the street. Meryl came up behind him and put her hand on the back of his arm. 

"What's wrong, Vash? Who was shooting at us?"

He ignored her for a moment and reached down to pick up one of the shells from Wolfwood's cross, then pulled a shell out of his pocket. "Just as I thought," he said, his eyes scanning the street. Concerned townspeople were coming out to see what was the problem.

"What is it Mr. Vash?" Millie came up on his other side.

"These shells are the same," Vash pointed out. "This is a caliber that Wolfwood said was unique to the Cross Punisher. That's why he was always saving his shells, and making his own ammunition."

"But if we had the cross, how could someone else be using one?"

Vash raised his head to the sky, and tried to see the blue through the haze of the still present dust cloud. "There was one other cross," he told the two women in a quiet voice. "Chapel the Evergreen, Wolfwood's mentor and one of the Gun Ho Guns, carried a different version of the Cross Punisher. His simply split into two machine guns."

He looked down into Meryl's grey and lavender eyes. "Chapel is dead. Of that I am certain. But I am also certain that whoever just attacked us was also using his weapon."

More shots rang out, sending the townspeople scurrying for cover. Vash pushed Meryl and Millie to the side with one hand and spun around, bringing the cross up. Coming from on top of a building a hundred yards away, bullets tracked little puffs of dust up the street.

Vash squeezed the handgrip trigger on the cross, trusting his instinctive gunfighter's skill to guide the shots. The figure he was aiming at dropped out of sight, down the back of the roof of the building he was standing on.

He didn't miss a moment, and hit the street running. But once again, when he got to where the man had been, he was gone. This time, however, lying on the ground was the second Cross Punisher. Blood was smeared on one of the handgrips, and across the top of the other.

Vash packed up the second cross, and carried both back to where Millie, Meryl, and Meryl's family were. By the time he arrived, they were already arranging for their surviving furniture and belongings to be transferred to the town inn.

Ignoring everybody, Vash went straight to the trunk of the car, dropping the two crosses next to the vehicle and digging out his worn old travel bag. He pushed his way through the crowd and back into the ruined house.

Hearing him stomp up the stairs and remembering the dead serious look on his face, Meryl ran after him. She found him up in the room she had been sharing with him, stripped down to his underwear. Laid out on the bed was his familiar old brown body armor and bright red coat. He took the stud earring out of his ear; Meryl had bought him a diamond stud about a week earlier to help further him from his legend. In it's place, she saw, he hooked his familiar little hoop.

She watched in silence as he snapped the body armor on, and donned the coat. When he drew the two pistols out of the bottom of the pack, she gasped.

"What will this accomplish, Vash?" she demanded.

His straightened up to his full height, spinning the two pistols in his hands. In his left spun the black pistol, Knives' pistol, and in his right was the pistol Knives had made for him.

"This accomplishes the only thing of importance," he said, turning to her as he snapped the two large handguns down into their holsters. "All of you could have died because I wasn't prepared, and I wont let that happen."

"But Vash, if you go outside like that, then everyone will know who you are." Meryl was starting to get frightened by the look on his face. She had never seen him look like this: deadly rage and cold fury both bottled up underneath a deathly calm mask. But now she recognized the necessity of this for him; recognized with this attack on them how necessary it was for him to make a statement wearing his battle armor. A statement that said that he is Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon and the man responsible for the destruction of both July and Augusta, and for the hole in the fifth moon. And while that was not done out of a desire for destruction, he was still capable of it. This was Vash wearing his reputation as a second layer of armor.

She picked her cape up off of the floor and threw it around her shoulders, making sure all of the Derringers were still attached to the lining. Running as fast as she could out of the room and down the stairs, she reached him just before he got to the front door.

It must look ridiculous, she knew. Here she was, barely five feet tall, standing behind the six foot figure of nightmares. Yet she knew that the scowl she now wore would frighten anyone who wasn't already feeling so at seeing Vash.

A harsh gust of wind blew a cloud of dust across the front of the house, between the door and where the crowd of people were standing around Millie and Meryl's parents. When it cleared, their first view of Vash was to see his coattails snapping in the wind as he pushed his yellow sunglass up on his face and closer to his eyes. Several of the people noticeably paled, and others tapped the shape of a cross across their chest. Even Meryl's parents took an involuntary step backward.

"What--What is this?" Meryl's father demanded.

Vash gave him a cold, gunfighter's stare. "This happened because I was ill prepared to deal with it," he said spreading his feet into a gunfighter's stance. Millie drew her stun gun and threw it over her shoulder, coming at a run to stand behind Vash. "The three of us have been lax too long. We have fought enough to know better, and will never be caught unawares again.

"Let this man come. Let him draw me out. For I am not alone, and together the three of us are undefeatable."


	9. Revelations

"What are we going to do now, Vash?" Meryl asked from behind him.

His eyes were constantly scanning the street and rooftops. "You and Millie need to help your parents gather some of their things and move into the inn. The house isn't very suitable for living in right now." The cold look on his face faded to something more companionable when he smiled at her. "I'll go reserve a handful of rooms for all of us. Meet me there, and keep your eyes open."

With that, Vash the Stampede picked up Chapel the Evergreen's Cross Punisher. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Millie making a beeline for Wolfwood's cross. He walked swiftly and surely down the four blocks separating the inn from Meryl's parent's house. The innkeeper was more than accommodating, since he didn't want to be responsible for offending the already bothered Humanoid Typhoon. He gave Vash three rooms on the top floor, which Vash carefully went over, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

After dinner that night, they separated into two groups. Vash and Meryl took the middle room; on one side was Millie's room, and on the other was Meryl's parents'. Millie accompanied Vash and Meryl for a nightcap.

"How are you going to handle this one, Mr. Vash?" Millie asked, her speech starting to slur after her third drink.

Vash was sitting on the bed, leaning back against the wall. He was wearing just his pants; his shirt was hanging on a peg on the wall next to his jacket and his socks and boots were set in one of the room's corners. His pistols, however, were sitting on either side of him on the bed.

It went without saying that Meryl was by now comfortable with the scars and metal crisscrossing Vash's upper body but, to his surprise, Millie was also comfortable with it. When he had asked her about it, just before his fight with Knives while she and Meryl were nursing him back to health, she had called him silly. "The three of us are family," she had said with a laugh. "It's like Meryl's one of my big sisters, and you are my big big BIG brother. There's nothing else to it."

"I'm not sure, Millie," he sighed, taking a deep drink out of a tankard of beer. 

Meryl gave him a disapproving look and swirled her orange juice around in her cup. "We obviously need to find out who this man is," she pointed out. When she noticed Millie pouring herself another drink, she grabbed the bottle out of the larger woman's hands. "That's enough, Millie," she said. "If we're going to figure out where we're going, we can't do it drunk. Don't you agree, Vash?"

The gunman was staring blankly at the wall, the now empty tankard lying on the bed. "Before we can decide where to go," he told the two of them quietly, "we need to figure out who our stalker is."

Meryl turned her frown on him. "I don't like your tone, Vash," she told him. "Do you have an ideas on who it is?

Vash turned to gaze at his lover. "I have some ideas," he allowed. "But I don't know anything. We'll just have to wait for him to make his next move."

"When ish that gonta be?" Millie's question was so slurred he could hardly understand her.

"I don't know. I really don't."

"Well," Meryl stood up. "It's getting late. I'll take Millie back to her room."

Vash didn't move; he stayed sitting on the bed against the wall. _I wonder_, he thought, _if this guy could be a clone. Knives certainly could have done that, but so quickly? This clone would have been made before Knives died, but how could he have done it then?_ As was his habit when he was deep in thought, Vash donned his yellow sunglasses. With his keen eyes, the sunglasses did nothing to inhibit his eyesight, but he found that it helped him to think.

A scream from out in the hallway brought him out of his reverie. He jumped off of the bed, grabbing one pistol in each hand and heading towards the door. When he kicked the barrier open, Millie and Meryl were clutching each other in the hall in front of Millie's room, the larger girl's inebriation suddenly gone.

"What's wrong?" the gunman demanded, holding both pistols up next to his head. Wordlessly, Meryl pointed at Millie's room while the other woman just cried. Behind him, Vash heard Meryl's parents gasp and dimly realized that they had never seen his scars before. He ignored their stuttered questions and jumped through the door.

Halfway through the window on the other side of the room, their unknown attacker paused in his escape. In his right hand was the still wrapped form of Wolfwood's Cross Punisher.

Vash pointed both pistols at the shadow. "Don't move!"

"Or what?" Even in the dark, the other man's sneer was obvious. "Are you going to shoot me, Vash the Stampede?"

"That depends on you. Why don't you step away from the window and we'll discuss it?"

A small knife appeared in the other man's left hand, which he promptly threw at Vash. In the time it took the gunman to duck away, the attacker ducked out the window. "Damn," Vash cursed, running towards the window. He leaned out the opening and fired a shot down the fire escape at the fleeing figure.

"Vash!" Meryl called out to him. He ignored her and jumped out the window. He slid down two levels of the fire escape's ladder, then jumped the last fifteen feet to the ground. Barefoot, shirtless, and holding two pistols, he took off at a dead run.

With it's signature hydraulic sound, the Cross Punisher transformed into a missile launcher in his attacker's hands. The missile came screaming in at him from down the street, flying at an incredible speed. Vash didn't blink: he simply raised one of his pistols and triggered a single shot. With a brilliant explosion of light, the missile blew up in mid air. Vash dove to the side of the cloud of smoke and hit the ground running. He fired two more shots, blasting a hole in the man's shoulder and knocking the cross out of it's carrier's hands.

"I'll say it again," he said in a cold voice. "Do not move."

The shadow raised it's hands. Back where they had come from, Vash heard the bang of the inn's front door slamming closed. He stepped closer to his opponent, pistols trained on his chest.

Behind him, Millie and Meryl slid to a halt. "Now we'll find out who you are," Meryl announced triumphantly, turning on the flashlight she held. She played the beam across the man's face.

Vash didn't react. He had expected this. Millie gasped, and Meryl just stood there with her mouth hanging open.

"Nicholas D. Wolfwood," Vash stated.

"Mr. Priest?" Millie asked in a trembling voice.

The calm expression on Wolfwood's face turned into a snarl, and he shook his head. "That is not a name I know," he answered them both. "Maybe I was that in the past, but I am now Chapel the Evergreen, the last Gun-Ho Gun. That is what I am, that is who I am." The ex-priest crossed his arms, wincing at the pain.

"But . . ." Millie started, but no words could come out. Vash's eyes narrowed at the movement he saw behind Wolfwood's arm.

"Surely you remember us?" Meryl asked. "If you didn't die-"

Wolfwood's eyes narrowed. "My master says I died. But he alone had the power to bring me back." As the words finished coming out of his mouth, he pulled his hand out of his sleeve and threw something at the three of them. It hit Millie in the chest, then fell straight to the ground. 

On the top of the cylinder that had been thrown, a red light began to flash. Frozen in surprise, none of them were able to prevent Wolfwood from picking the cross back up and running away.

Vash stuck the two pistols under his waistband, and grabbed one woman under each arm. Without waiting, he started running, half carrying half dragging his friends with him. They were barely twenty feet away from the bomb when it erupted in argent flames.


	10. Recovery

Millie and Meryl lay stunned on the ground, the air knocked out of them from the force of their landing. Behind them, fires burned along the walls of several buildings and across the ground of the street, their light shining through a sheen of dust and smoke.

Meryl rolled onto her back and sat up. "Vash!" she wheezed, unable to regain her breath. Her eyes worked to penetrate the cloud of dust in search of her lover.

Fifteen feet ahead of her, barely twenty or twenty five feet away from the center of the explosion, Vash was pushing himself to his hands and knees. When he finally managed to stand, he stumbled forward.

Blood was streaming from a series of minor cuts across his chest, side, and back. The left side of his face was covered in the red liquid oozing out of a gash in his forehead along the hairline.

The two women struggled to their feet from where Vash had thrown them when the bomb exploded. Meryl tore the arm off of her blouse and stood on her tip toes to press it against the spurting blood. Millie had to support the gunman as the trio stumbled back to the inn through another crowd. Whispers where abundant even at that late hour as nearly a hundred people saw Vash's scarred and blood covered body. He didn't say a single word as they walked; he just moved along in a daze, similar to the one affecting Millie but somehow deeper. 

Vash's two female friends helped support him as they walked up the four flights of stairs to where their rooms were. In Vash and Meryl's room, he was pushed down on the bed. Meryl pulled the pistols out of his waistband and sent her mother to get the town doctor. Millie went back to her room and dug bandages out of her suitcase and tried not to think about Wolfwood.

Meryl wiped the blood away from as many of his little cuts as she could using a towel and water. Vash simply stared up at the ceiling, ignoring her attempts to talk to him. Finally, moments before the doctor came in and after Millie and Meryl had bandaged him up, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

The doctor performed as in depth of an inspection as he could since Vash refused to wake up. When he finished, he turned to Meryl and broke the silence.

"As far as I can tell," he told her, "he suffered a rather serious concussion as well as the obvious cuts and bruises. I recommend that he rest. For a normal person, I would say at least a week off of his feet. However, he doesn't seem to be a normal man, so I don't know how long in his case. Keep him hydrated, but other than that I would say to leave him alone. He'll wake up when he is ready."

The petite, dark haired woman thanked him and saw him out the door. Outside in the hall, Meryl's parents were anxious to talk to her, but a distraught Meryl told them to go back to bed. Inside her room, she and Millie spread their bedrolls on the floor near the bed, and resigned themselves to taking shifts watching over Vash.

When morning came without further incident, they both felt somewhat relieved. The only times they left the room was to get water for Vash, or to get something to eat. At all times, one of the two women was with the Humanoid Typhoon as he slept.

Meryl tried to avoid her parents, but they refused to be pushed away. Whenever they had the chance, they were asking if this type of thing happened often, or how Vash had gotten all of those scars.

At the end of the first full day Vash was unconscious, Meryl was sitting on the bed and cradling Vash's head in her lap.

"How long do you think he'll be like this, Meryl?" Millie asked her friend. She was sitting on the floor across the room and slowly spooning some pudding into her mouth.

Meryl looked up at her. "I don't know, Millie," she replied, stroking her hand across the blonde gunman's forehead. "Remember, when he was hurt badly in his fight with Legato, he was out of it for ten days."

"But what will we do if Chapel--I mean Mr. Wolfwood comes back?" Millie sniffed back the tears caused by the mention of her love's name.

The smaller woman gave her friend a sure smile. "You know we can take care of ourselves, Millie," she told her. She put as much confidence as she could into her voice, but had to look away lest she read the doubt in her eyes. "Don't forget how many times we've saved Vash's life."

Millie licked the last of the pudding off of her spoon and stood up. "I suppose you're right, Meryl. Well, I'm going to make a run for some more pudding. Why don't you go ahead and get ready for bed? I'll take the first watch."

The door closed quietly before Meryl could manage a thank you. She carefully slid out from under Vash, then stripped out of her pants and blouse. After donning her nightshirt, she turned out all of the lights in the room save one, so that Millie could see when she came back. As carefully as she could, she slipped under the blanket and up next to Vash. With her head laying on his shoulder, she lightly slid her hand across his chest, tracing the varied scars and noticing that his muscles were taught, as though they were all flexing. She wondered about that for a moment, then remembered that after he had been hurt fighting Legato, his muscles had done the same thing.

Gently, she snuggled herself up against him, laying on her side and draping her arm across his waist. He seemed to relax in her embrace, and she gripped him tighter. After a few minutes, he started to mumble something. Meryl strained to hear him.

"No, Steve, please don't. Stop hitting me. I'm sorry. No, stop. I'm not a monster! Please stop, you're hurting me!" he whispered the words so quietly that she almost wasn't sure that she heard him correctly.

She gently touched his face. "It's okay, Vash," she whispered, trying to comfort him. "No one's going to hurt you. No one's hitting you. You've never been a monster. It's all okay," she finished, stretching to lightly kiss him on the lips. He mumbled a few more words, then fell asleep.

A quarter of an hour later, Millie came back with her pudding. When she saw Meryl lying on the bed, she tried to shut the door as quietly as she could. She tiptoed across the room and over to her cushion. Sitting on the floor and leaning with her back against the wall, she draped her stun gun across her lap.

__

This man may be Nicholas Wolfwood, she thought, gritting her teeth in determination. _But whoever he may or may not be, this is my family. And my big little sister always said that nothing is more important than family._

She pulled her spoon out of her pocket and withdrew a container of chocolate pudding out of the grocery bag. When she saw Meryl stir on the bed, she said, "Good night, Meryl."

"Good night, Millie," came the whispered response. "Wake me up in four hours, will you?

"Okay," Millie lied. _Sleep all night, Meryl. I'll sleep tomorrow. Whether he's Wolfwood, or Chapel, we wont let him take Vash._ Softly, she whispered, "Sleep tight." 

For the second night, there was no disturbance. When Meryl woke with a start, realizing she had slept all night, the first thing she did was lay into Millie for not waking her up. Millie accepted the verbal abuse with a smile and, for the first time, Meryl understood why Vash was always asking himself if he was getting through to her. Everything Meryl said seemed to go in one ear and out the other. In the end, Meryl apologized and thanked her friend for letting her sleep.

After Meryl had eaten breakfast and Millie laid down to take a nap, the petite woman got out their supply of bandages, intending to change whichever of Vash's bandages needed changing. She pulled off the first bandage, and then several more quickly, in disbelief. The skin underneath, rather than being scabbed or bruised, was pink and new. Swiftly, she tore the rest of the bandages off of his body, all of which revealed the same thing.

She ran over and woke Millie up to show her but, when the two women turned back, Vash was sitting up in the bed.

"What time is it?" he demanded, his voice somehow strong and clear.

Meryl gaped at him for a moment before she could answer. "It's about eight in the morning."

Vash laid back down. "Get together everything you will need for a long trip," he ordered, closing his eyes again. "We leave tomorrow morning."


	11. The Grave

Vash had intended to leave as early as possible, but Meryl protested. She insisted that he see the town's doctor one last time before they could leave. The gunman reluctantly agreed and, while Meryl went to retrieve the doctor, a stunned Millie watched Vash go through his exercise routine.

Without breaking a sweat, the tall blonde man leapt around room, practicing a form of martial arts called karate. Rem had taught him about this form of fighting, saying that it had once been popular on ancient Earth, before Project SEEDS was ever conceived. 

Millie watched him with her eyes open wide, rarely blinking. When Meryl came back with the doctor, she acted indifferent; she had been watching him do his exercises for quite a while, now, and was used to it. The doctor, on the other hand, was astonished to see Vash up and moving.

After performing his examination, the doctor could only shake his head in disbelief. "I don't understand it," he confessed. "Two days ago, you had a serious concussion. It should have taken you several weeks to get over that, but here you are as if nothing happened."

Vash pulled a shirt over his head and ran his hands through his hair. "It travels in my family, Doc," he said with a smile. "Me and my brother both heal fast. Thank you for your concern, but, as you can see, there's nothing to be worried about." He turned the doc around and pushed him towards the door. "We're leaving town, or I would say see you later. Good luck in life."

"But-but-but this is unprecedented!" the doctor protested as Vash politely pushed him through the door. "Completely-"

The rest of what he was going to say was cut off when Vash closed the door. He turned back to Meryl and Millie.

"How did you heal so fast this time?" Meryl asked, turning to pack up her traveling clothes.

Vash pulled his coat off of it's peg and laid it out on the bed next to his body armor. "I've always healed this fast," he said, sounding slightly miffed as if she hadn't noticed.

Meryl shook her head. "For two weeks after fighting Legato, you were recovering. Don't even try to convince me that that was a fluke."

The Humanoid Typhoon barked a short laugh. "Most of that was spiritual weariness," he admitted. "After the first couple of days, the gunshot wounds had healed. All that was left was my emotional exhaustion."

"That's what I thought, Mr. Vash," Millie blurted enthusiastically. "I mean, you were always looking so tired, and you just didn't have any energy."

Vash pulled his red coat on over the body armor, then started digging in his travel pack for one of his many spare sets of sunglasses. Once he found one, he packed in the little bit of clothing he carried, and then started helping Meryl.

Millie took her bags and left to rent a car for the short trip back to SEEDS City. Meryl took the opportunity to ask Vash a question that had been nagging her.

"Who is Steve?"

Her lover's back stiffened suddenly as he was picking up his two pistols, then relaxed. "Where did you hear that name?" he asked, sounding disinterested.

Meryl turned to look at him. "You had a nightmare two nights ago," she answered. "You were telling him to stop hurting you. You kept begging him to stop over and over."

"Steve . . ." He trailed off, thinking. "Steve was a crew member on the control ship that led the fleet that brought everyone here. He was one of the five crew members."

"What did he do to you?"

Vash sighed. "Steve thought of me and Knives as being monsters because of how fast we grew after we were--"

"Born?"

"--Created. When I think about it, three of the five crew members thought of us like that, except for Joey and Rem. Steve just didn't try to hide it. Just the opposite. He showed me and Knives just what he thought of us."

"He beat you." Meryl's tone made it obvious she wasn't asking.

"Often," Vash confirmed. "He would get drunk and then seek me out. Me, barely a year old, and he would beat me until he either ran out of energy or passed out."

Meryl looked shocked. "This man would beat a one year old child?"

Vash snorted. "When Knives and I were one year old, we were four feet tall, and had a higher IQ than the average plant engineer. One of the advantages of being a freeborn plant: we aged fast until we looked about twenty-one, then it stopped. As long as I don't overextend my energy, I could live for three or four hundred more years."

"And this Steve resented you for that? Because you would live so long?"

"That might be part of it," he answered her. "But I think it was because he knew about plants, how they generated energy. He knew what they were, and didn't want to believe that they could be equal to him. Now that I think about it, Steve always did have an inferiority complex."

Meryl was about to ask more questions when Millie popped her head in the door. "Mission status is green," the tall woman said. She smiled. "We have a car rental and, if we leave in the next ten minutes, will be able to get tickets on a sand steamer bound for LH tonight. So hurry up!" 

Her head disappeared, and Vash stared at the door. "Oh, well," he said, grabbing his travel pack and Meryl's suitcase. "Lets get going."

It took four days of travel, three on a sand steamer and one in a car, before they made it to their destination. About 250 miles from the city of LH in the opposite direction from the town where Vash had recuperated after his fight with Legato was a small ghost town.

When they arrived, Vash was driving and both Meryl and Millie were sleeping. When the tall gunman pressed the brakes and stopped just outside of town, both women were awakened.

Millie took one look out the window and started crying. Meryl threw Vash a glare and hurried out of the car. She ran around the vehicle, pulling open Millie's door and tugging the tall woman out into the open and into her embrace. 

"You could have woken us up a little earlier," Meryl snapped.

Vash gave her a sad look and nodded in acknowledgement. Without replying, he pushed his glasses up his nose and spun around on his heel.

"It's okay, Millie," Meryl murmured into her friend's shoulder, holding her head against her own shoulder. "Cry it all out. It's okay to grieve." She kept telling her friend little sayings as she glared at Vash, who was turning a corner a hundred yards away.

Millie cried non stop for several minutes, being comforted in her best friend's embrace. Abruptly, her grieving was interrupted.

Twin gunshots rang out over the deserted town. Millie jerked her head up and looked down the street where Vash had gone, tears still streaming down her face. Meryl let go of the taller woman and grabbed two Derringers from the liner of her cape before she started running. She skidded around the corner where she had seen Vash turn and kept going; ahead, she could see the steeple of the church, and she knew that was where Vash had gone.

Belatedly, she noticed Millie carrying her stun gun as they ran through the church's front door and across the foyer. When they entered the main room, they could see Vash standing at the head pew, blocking their view of the wall and floor ahead of them. The two women dashed up the aisle, noticing that the blonde man had both of his pistols drawn and pointed at the wall ahead of him. As she ducked under his left arm, Meryl's attention was immediately drawn to the floor in front of them where Vash said he had buried Wolfwood. It was obvious when Millie saw it because she started wailing once again. Meryl simply stared blankly.

The grave was empty.

The petite, dark haired woman stared for several minutes at the hole in the ground, oblivious to Millie's shrieks of grief. Finally, she tore her eyes off of the desecration and looked up to Vash's face. Vash, she noticed, was still staring at the wall with both of his pistols raised. Meryl forced herself to follow his line of sight.

Written on the wall was a single word. Written in blood. On either side were the two bullet holes from the shots Vash had fired. When she read the word, it sent a shiver up her spine. The first shiver was followed by a second, then a third, and a fourth. Her mouth was hanging open in astonishment and dread. Almost inaudible under Millie's weeping, she heard Vash read the single word out loud. The sound of it made her knees feel weak.

"Knives."


	12. New Orders

Author's Note: Here's another short chapter. A VERY short chapter. I threw this in so that when the story gets where I want to take it, you won't wonder how it got there. If you have suggestions on how to make this chapter better, email them to me. Thanks!

************************************************************************

When Nicholas D. Wolfwood, now Chapel the Evergreen, entered his master's trophy room, the lights were off. He tried in vain to see through the veil of darkness, but was forced to give up. "I'm here, Master," he called out into the room.

"Of course you have come, Chapel," the rich voice seemed disembodied. Chapel dropped down to one knee as his master's footsteps sounded. He passed his servant without stopping and walked through the door.

"You should consider yourself lucky, Chapel," the white haired man told the gunman as he started to walk down the hallway. "You are the only human animal on the planet that knows the location of this place. I found this ship nearly fifty years after humans landed on this planet; it had been deserted and all of the sleepers dead. It took me twenty years to get most of the electronics repaired, except for the destroyed control room.

The white haired man turned a corner then walked through another door. "It was here," he said, running his hand down a wall, "that Vash's arm was attached to Legato's body. It was here that Legato was taught the truth about plants, and it was here that he began to organize his Gun-Ho Guns for service. And this place will be here long after all of the spiders have been wiped off of the face of this planet."

Chapel simply nodded, not understanding either the reference to spiders or where his master was going with this. "Your will be done, Master," he said deferentially.

"I fail to understand," the taller man turned to Chapel, "how it is that you failed to kill Vash not once, but twice. All of the Gun-Ho Guns were killed for a single failure. How is it you don't deserve the same?"

Chapel the Evergreen dropped down to one knee again. "Whatever you give me, I deserve. It is for you to decide, not me."

The master's voice became almost friendly. "That is a good answer. That has saved your life.

"I have a new mission for you," he said turning to face the dark haired man and placing his hand on the back of his head. "You are no longer to kill Vash the Stampede. Instead, you are to make sure he comes to me. The two women who accompany him are not to enter this place, but Vash himself must. Do you understand?"

Chapel stood up and nodded. 

The white haired man waved his hand dismissively. "Simply tell him that his brother is looking forward to seeing him, and he will ask you to bring him here. Now, go."

The servant was immediately out the door and on his way out to the desert.

Slowly, the master made his way back to his trophy room. With the lights up full, he slowly began looking around. His favorite mementos were placed around the room; whenever he felt anxious, he came here. If he was angry, he came here. Even when he wanted to relax, he came here. For some reason, this room made him feel better.

He smiled and poured himself a glass of wine. It was obvious why this room made him feel better. It underlined the futility of being human. He quickly downed the full glass, then threw the crystal object at the floor. The sound of shattered glass echoed throughout the room.

"After he gets here, I will do it," he said to no one in particular. "I will kill the spiders. Only the butterflies will be left. And this will be my Eden. Our Eden."


	13. Bounty

Sorry this has taken so long to post. I've been really sick lately, and have been to exhausted to touch the computer.

So, here's the latest chapter. More coming soon, so remember to review it for me! And be honest!

Two weeks had passed, and Meryl was getting more and more worried about Vash. He was spending most of his time either in silence, or talking to himself and ignoring both her and Millie for the most part. This was just fine with Millie, who was dealing with her grief over the violation of her lover's grave.

Wolfwood's grave. That confused Meryl. Vash had said that Wolfwood had died, but now he was stalking them under the name Chapel the Evergreen. _Could he have been brought back to life somehow? _She wondered. _How could he be around? And why would someone write Knives' name over the grave? Why, why, why?_

An idea occurred to her while they were sitting in a café in LH. Vash was shoveling food into his mouth and looking distracted, and Millie was just staring at her still full plate. Meryl took a drink of coffee, then wetted her lips and asked her question.

"Vash? Could Chapel be a clone?"

This caught Millie's attention, and she looked at the shorter woman with tear filled eyes. Vash slowly raised his head to look at Meryl. "He has to be."

"But," Millie asked, her voice breaking, "could he have not been dead?"

Vash shook his head vehemently and dropped his fork onto his empty plate. He ran his hand over his eyes "No. I checked. He dripped a lot of blood on the street when he walked to the church, and I checked him for a pulse before I dug his grave, and again before I put him in it. There is no way he could have been brought back to life."

"So he is a clone," Millie sniffed. "How is that possible?"

Meryl shrugged. "I don't know how it could be possible. That kind of technology is just as lost as the technology for creating Plants."

A surprised look passed over Vash's face, and he started digging in the pockets of his red coat. "I just realized: for no records of Rem to have existed, there must not have been a town where she crashed the ship. That ship was the only SEEDS ship with a crew, and so it was the only ship with a fully functional medical lab."

"So?" Meryl asked, looking confused.

Vash leaned towards her, once again calm and yet somehow animated. "That lab was where Knives and I were created. If someone could repair the computers and electronics there, they would have the knowledge and equipment to clone someone." He pulled Rem's holographic generator out of his pocket. "Come on," he ordered, getting up, "we need to back to the hotel."

Meryl looked at Millie, seeing her come out of her grief somewhat. Vash lightly tapped on the café's window from outside and waved at them to urge them on. "Come on, Millie," the petite woman sighed. "He must have some idea on what we can do. And you know he won't start without us."

Millie nodded woodenly, and followed her short friend out of the building. Down the street, Vash's coattails were all they could see as he ran through the front door of the hotel they were staying in.

The two women found him in the room he shared with Meryl, sitting in a plush recliner. The hologram of Rem was just starting to appear in the middle of the room. "Hi, Vash," the tall, dark haired woman said even before the image solidified. "Meryl. And friend. What do you need?" she asked, directing her attention back to the tall gunman.

Vash gripped the arms of his chair so hard that his fingertips turned white. "I need to know where the ship is, Rem," he said. "Someone's using it's lab, and I need to find them."

Rem shook her head. "I don't know exactly where the ship is." A look of profound disappointment erased the calmness from Vash's face. "But," she continued, "I can tell you the name of a town near it."

The tall, blonde man leaned forward, eager to hear her answer. "You need to find a little town called Little Tokyo. It's just a ghost town now, nothing but buildings filled in with sand. It's been that way for about ninety years. It's about eight hundred isles north of Inepril City." 

"Eight hundred isles?" Vash wondered. "I've been near there. Nothing but sand. What was a town doing up there?"

Rem shook her head. As she moved closer to Vash with Millie close behind, Meryl could see a sad look on the hologram's face. "When I woke up after the crash, it was in Little Tokyo's little med center. Apparently, some of the settlers had left the Inepril City crash site and tried to make a city of their own. I lived there for a while."

"Why did you leave?" Meryl asked.

The dead woman's gaze turned to her granddaughter. "I had gone to Inepril to buy some medical supplies. Whey I got back, everyone was dead; it was as if they had all gathered together, and then gone berserk. It looked as though they had all killed each other, the women, men and children."

Meryl turned to Vash and put her hand on his shoulder. "We've seen that before," she reminded him quietly.

Rem's sad gaze turned inquisitive. "You know who could have done this?"

Vash stood up and walked over near the room's window. "Legato . . ." he whispered, looking out at the horizon. "Knives . . ."

Quickly, so fast that it seemed that he had suddenly been reversed back to front, he turned around and picked up the projector. "One last question, Rem," he said. "How could towns have already been founded when you woke up? How long were you out?"

The image of Rem sat down on an invisible seat. "The ship orbited this planet for months after the rest of the convoy crashed," she told him. "I was able to repair some of the electronics, but Knives had rigged the cryo-freeze units. Whenever I tried to wake someone up, the unit killed them, and I couldn't break the codes. When the ship finally crashed, people had started to build buildings around the wrecks."

Vash turned off the projector without any further words and stuffed it into his pocket. He turned to look at his two companions. "We'll stay here tonight," he told them. "Tomorrow, we'll head back to Inepril City."

The three of them shared the one room that night; Meryl insisted that Millie use the bed, and slept on the floor. Vash sat awake in one of the room's recliner.

Even at midnight, he was wearing his body armor, and had both of his pistols sitting on his lap. His coat was hanging on a peg on the door, and his travel pack was hooked between Meryl's cloak and his jacket.

Though the shutter on the window was closed, he still stared at it. The quiet sound of Meryl's breathing was helping him to think, even if it was nearly drowned out by Millie's snoring.

The sound of shattering glass brought Vash out of his chair. He holstered both pistols, then walked over to the window and yanked the shutter open.

How the glass was broken, he couldn't tell. It was a shock to him that nearly all of the glass in the large window had disappeared.

A shadow running across the roof of the building across the street caught his attention, and his eyes narrowed. "Meryl?" he called her, trying to wake her up. She groaned and rolled over, so he walked over to her. 

Just as soon as he kneeled next to her, the sound of a bottle breaking on the floor behind him caught his attention. Hot on it's heels, the whoosh of igniting gasoline blew a gust of air past him.

Meryl was still sound asleep, exhausted from the worry of the last two weeks. A quick glance to the other side of the room, through the flames, showed him that Millie was in a similar condition. He picked Meryl up in one arm, then dove through the flames to grab Millie. On his way out the door, he was able to grab Meryl's cloak and Millie's stun gun also, but couldn't carry any of his own gear.

When he ran through the front doors of the hotel, he laid the two women down in the street. He gave no thought to the shadows at both ends of the street, he just wanted to wake Meryl up.

"Vash the Stampede!" a voice from one end of the street called out. "I've found you again!"

Vash stood and looked at the man calling out to him. The bounty hunter was easily twelve feet tall, and nearly as wide. He held a boomerang in his artificial left hand and was shaking the ground with each step he took.

"_We_ found him, idiot," came a second voice from the opposite end of the street. This time when Vash looked, he saw a man about six feet tall with a wide brimmed hat, a trench coat, and a custom made rifle in his hands.

The Sixty Billion Double Dollar Man backed away from Meryl and Millie, who were just starting to wake up, and dropped the women's weapons. "What's the matter?" the massive bounty hunter asked. "Still afraid of blood?"

The boomerang came hissing down the street, slicing through houses, stores, and other buildings on both sides at the perfect height to cut of Vash's head. He ducked under the whirling blade, then ran away down an alley.

Behind him, he could hear both men as they tried to follow. A crowd of people trying to see the fire interfered with their progress, allowing him a steadily increasing lead as he made his way to the edge of town.

He didn't have to wait for very long before they caught up to him. They separated, circling around him. "We've spent a long time looking for you," the man in the hat said, training his rifle on Vash.

"After humiliating me like you did," the fat bounty hunter said, "you can be sure this is going to hurt." he readied his boomerang for another throw.

"Don't do this," Vash pleaded, dropping both of his hands for a quick draw. In the distance, over the roar of the fire, he could hear Meryl calling his name.

The fat man laughed, a booming sound. "Still afraid of blood, eh?"

"Come on," the cowboy urged. "With how he beat us last time, we can't give him the time to figure out how to now." He raised his rifle and triggered a shot.

When the bullet passed through the space Vash's head had occupied, the blonde man was on his knees and diving sideways, a good two feet below the lead projectile. He could see the details around him as thought time were frozen, and yet the sounds near him were amplified. The twin whispers of his pistols clearing their holsters were roars in his ears. He had enough time to paint the looks of surprise on the two bounty hunters faces. Time was his.

Between the two men, he could see Meryl and Millie skidding to a stop. Meryl's two derringers tracked upward ever so slowly toward the fat, red mohawked man while Millie's stun gun was swinging around toward the cowboy. Even though he wasn't looking where he was aiming, he knew: his pistols were on target, and he didn't have time to wait.

Four shots and the whuff of the stun gun rang out. The explosive, meaty thwack of projectiles meeting flesh combined with the smell of gunpowder drowned out the sound of the now blazing fire and it's smoke.

Vash turned his dive into a roll and came up on his feet as both bodies slumped to the desert floor. He could see the look of surprise on Meryl's face, and the look of anger on Millie's. He holstered his pistols and walked over to Meryl, who was by that time standing next to the larger bounty hunter.

"But . . .But . . . I . . . I wasn't aiming for . . ." she stuttered. 

The gunman put his hands on his shoulders and let the calm mask on his face slip for a moment. "No, you weren't," he agreed, "you shot him in the leg."

"Then . . .You?"

"They deserved it Meryl," Millie answered for Vash. "Remember when we first met Mr. Vash? Do you remember what that bounty hunter was going to do to us when we thought he was the real Vash?"

Meryl nodded woodenly.

"We need to get back to the car now," Vash told the two women. He put his other hand on Millie's shoulder and pushed them both back toward town. "Since these two found me, others wont be too far behind. We need to leave for Inepril City. Now."


	14. A Promise

"Damn."

After Vash's brief fight with the two bounty hunters in LH, Meryl had driven them away for about eight hours before they made their first stop. There had been no buildings or people around, but the three of them had decided that it would be okay to get dressed at that point. All three of them had had clothes in the car. The Humanoid Typhoon had been silent the whole trip. Not angry, or depressed; he was just withdrawn. Both Meryl and Millie had been unable to draw him into conversation. All he did was stare out the window at nothing.

Vash's curse caught the attention of both women. "What's wrong?" Meryl asked as they turned towards him. All they could see of him was his armored backside and legs sticking out of the vehicle's trunk.

The gunman pulled himself out of the trunk and threw a disgusted look at her through his sunglasses. Meryl snorted. His travel pack had been destroyed along with his jacket in the fire at the hotel, yet he still seemed to have stashes of sunglasses heaven knew where.

"The only clothes I have are the ones you bought for me," he told her sourly. Millie sat down to quietly contemplate the sand dunes. Meryl hurried over to Vash to look at the clothes he held in his hands.

"It's okay, Mr. Vash," Millie told him over his shoulder. "You really do look good in them."

"And they'll help disguise you," Meryl added, standing on her tip toes and giving him a quick kiss. She gave him a mischievous look. "Do you need help changing?"

The redness of his blush made the yellow of his hair and sunglasses stand out all the more. He didn't bother answering her, he just stomped off and over a dune.

Meryl fidgeted with her cloak for a moment, then walked over to her friend. "Are you okay Millie?" she asked. "You've been so quiet."

"I just . . . I just have to believe he's in their somewhere, Meryl," the tall, brown haired woman said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Instantly, Meryl knew who she was referring to. "I don't know, Millie," she replied. "He's tried to kill us several times. Wolfwood would never have done that."

Millie nodded woodenly, and then was silent. Knowing that she wouldn't get any more talk out of her, Meryl made tracks over to where Vash was changing. She stared at his bare back for a moment, watching his muscles move underneath his skin.

"Aren't you going to react?" she demanded.

He stiffened. "What do you mean?" he asked as he started to strip the body armor off of his legs.

"A couple of hours ago, you killed two men," she reminded him, "which brings your grand total up to four now. Shouldn't you be showing some kind of emotions?"

Vash turned back to her, now fully naked except for his sunglasses. "What do you want?" he asked caustically. "For me to start balling my head off?"

Meryl snorted. "That's how you've reacted to better situations in the past."

The gunman turned back around and pulled some underwear and an undershirt out of the stack of clothes. "Things change. I've changed."

The short, dark haired woman didn't reply. She just waited for him to continue. "When the second person you kill is your own brother, it burns you out. Quickly. Or you turn psychotic."

She frowned at him. "But it isn't as though you've had enough time to get over anything."

Vash finished pulling his undershirt over his head and stooped to pick up a pair of slacks. "How long was I gone, when I left to find my brother?"

Her eyes narrowed. "About two weeks," she replied in a cautious tone.

The Humanoid Typhoon nodded and buttoned his pants. "It only a day and a half to get to where Knives was. I had the rest of that time to myself, to think."

Meryl walked over to the pile of body armor and clothes and picked his shirt up off of the sand. She gave it a quick shake to remove the sand, then handed it to him. "But why didn't he stink if he'd been dead for nearly two weeks?" Her hand jerked up to cover her mouth when she realized what she had just said.

"He never will," Vash's face remained stony as he pulled the shirt over his head. He ran his hands through his hair to stand it back up. "That's part of being a Plant. After a Plant dies, their body remains intact and undamaged until they can't generate any more energy.

"That's something that the old Plant engineers learned was a side effect of the genetic manipulation: if a Plant started out as a living creature, then energy would be generated until the Plant was drained. Knives' body wont start to rot for a good many years," he finished.

Meryl couldn't think of any reply, so she turned and walked back to the car to think.

A couple of moments later, Vash returned, dressed in a deep maroon shirt, black slacks, and wearing his two pistols in shoulder holsters. Meryl tugged on the collar of his shirt, and kissed him one more time before they all piled back in the car and took off.

It wasn't for another week, when they arrived at a town with a sand steamer station, that Meryl was able to find time alone with Vash. And then, only because of the increased security that he paid the captain to place around their rooms. In the middle of the night on their fourth night on the steamer, Meryl brought up the subject of their engagement.

"I don't know when we can get married," he replied to answer her question. "I'm not sure anymore if we should."

Lying next to him, she ran her hand across his chest and tilted her head to look up at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Vash tilted his head to meet her eyes. "It means that for as long as I live, this is my life. Bounty hunters are always going to be following me. Everyone that touches me dies, or will at least always be in serious danger. I still don't want to kill if I don't have to, and I'm starting to think that can be best accomplished if I'm alone."

Meryl listened to him calmly, then stretched up and kissed his chin when he finished talking. "Listen to me, Vash," she told him. "Think about it: have you been in more trouble or less trouble since you've met Millie and me?"

"Overall, less," he answered. "But it has been a little worse than usual."

"So, I stay," she told him in a tone that would brook no discussion. "And listen well: I don't care where we get married, when we get married, or if we get married. What matters is that we're together. And we'll always be together."


	15. Decisions

I am REALLY sorry that it has taken so long to update, but such is the wims of my muse, and life. They've been conspiring to drop just about every form or writer's block there is into my path. Oh, well. I'll try to do better with my future updates.

When Vash arrived in Inepril City on the sand steamer, he arrived alone. It had taken a lot of work, but he had convinced Milly and Meryl to take a different, smaller steamer that would arrive several hours after he had. Before they had split, they had agreed on which hotel he would rent the rooms from so that they would know where to meet him.

He wore his signature hair style and sunglasses, but his clothes were still what Meryl had bought for him. Also, he didn't have any kind of luggage with him at all; he knew that Meryl would be angry with him, but he would have to buy some new clothing before she arrived.

The gunman paused at the bottom of the sand steamer's off ramp to look around. He could see the bustling activity of the town's vendors as they tried to hawk their goods, seeming invigorated with the arrival of tourists on the massive vehicle.

To his surprise, he saw the town's chairman, a short balding man, standing about thirty feet away from him. The other man was anxiously scanning the crowd, intently looking for someone.

Vash suddenly had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He stooped forward, running his hands through his hair to flatten it down. Now moving with a shuffling walk, he tried to make his way past the chairman, keeping at least four people between them at all times.

Once he had made it past the other man, he straightened back up and began walking normally. He quickly made his way to a hotel on the edge of town, and paid for two rooms. The feeling in the pit of his stomach fluttered when the inn keeper gave him a piercing look, commenting on how much like Vash the Stampede he looked.

After checking over his rooms, he went out in search of a clothing store. Inside, and dealing with another person giving him strange looks, he purchased some jeans and a handful of white button up shirts with a pair of suspenders.

Back at the hotel room, Vash quickly went about changing his appearance once again. When his hair was completely down, the tips of it nearly reached his shoulders. Dressed in the white shirt, jeans, and overalls, he was swiftly reminded of the time he had spend with a young girl named Lina and her grandmother after the incident in Augusta. The gunman turned his eyes skyward and said a quick prayer for them.

A knock at the door sounded just as he finished his prayer. Vash, in the guise of Ericks, shuffled over to the door and pulled it open. Standing on the other side was the city's chairman and his right hand man.

"You see, Chairman," the tall, brown haired man addressed his shorter superior, "it's just as I said. Vash the Stampede."

The short, balding man had a confused look on his face as he gave Vash the once over. "It doesn't look like I remember," he mumbled.

Vash stepped through the door and closed it behind him, throwing a worried glance down the hallway. "Vash the Stampede, you say?" he asked. "Here? Where?"

The taller man now looked worried. "Well, _you _are Vash. Aren't you?"

With a surprised look on his face, the gunman took a stumbled step backward. "_Me?_" he asked with a squeak in his voice. "No, no, no. I'm Ericks, from the town of Kasted," he corrected, shaking his head.

The chairman suddenly had a worried look on his face. "Oh, dear," he murmured under his breath. "That man is not going to like hearing this."

At the chairman's words, Vash perked up a little. "Sorry you can't deliver your message, Sir," he said. "Really, I hope I never see Vash the Stampede, but if I do I will let him know you are looking for him."

The chairman's aide threw Vash a sour look as he led the chairman away. "If we're still alive." Vash could barely hear the words, they were spoken so quietly.

When the two city officials were out of sight around the corner, Vash straightened up and frowned. _What are they talking about?_ he wondered. _Why are they afraid for their lives? Could Wolfwood still be looking for me?_

Vash turned on his heel and opened the door to his room. The girls, he knew, should be arriving at almost any moment. He stepped through the open doorway and quietly shut the door behind him.

A sense of wrongness nearly overwhelmed the freeborn plant. He turned around slowly, scanning the room until his gaze came to rest on the now open window and the lounge chair next to it.

"I wondered if those two fools would actually be able to find you," Wolfwood said, his hand resting on his cross. The large gun was standing up next to the lounge chair he was sitting in. In his lap rested Vash's two large handguns.

The sixty billion double dollar man spread his hands. "I'm not surprised," he said. "I didn't really take the time to work up a decent disguise. Last time I was here, they knew me before they even saw me."

The ex-priest shook his head. "With as clumsy as you are, it's no wonder that you have all of those scars on your body. The wonder is that you are still alive."

Vash dropped his hands to his sides. "You obviously aren't here to kill me," he changed the subject, taking a step forward. "If that was your goal, you would have done it already."

Wolfwood clapped his hands together and picked up the pistols on his lap. "That's right," he answered, standing up. He took a couple of steps forward and offered the two weapons to Vash. "I am here to deliver a message."

Out in the hallway, Vash could hear the footsteps and voices of the two insurance girls. "And that message is . . ."

A crooked smile creased the other man's lips. "Your brother wishes to have your company."

Vash almost dropped the two guns. "Impossible," he stuttered. "I watched him die. He can't want to see me."

The sudden knock on the room's door barely registered on either man. "Vash? Are you in there?" Meryl's muffled voice made it through the thick wood.

"Your choice is simple," Wolfwood continued, not missing a beat. "If you wish for the women to live, you will slip out during the night, and meet me in front of the town's Plant at dawn. If I see them following, they will die and I will still take you to Knives."

The blonde gunman turned his head to look at the door, where Meryl was incessantly knocking. When he turned back, the dark haired ex-priest was gone, along with his weapon of choice.

Shaking his head, Vash turned back around and opened the door. Millie came through first, nearly running to flop down on the room's second bed.

"What's wrong?" Meryl asked when she saw the confused and serious expression on her lover's face.

Remembering Wolfwood's warning concerning the women, Vash shook his head. "It's nothing. Just that the chairman and his aide almost recognized me."

Meryl arched an eyebrow. "Looking like a redneck?" she asked teasingly.

Vash gave into her attempt to lighten his mood. "Are you two hungry?" he asked. "We can go out and hit a restaurant."

Both women, the one standing and the one lying down, shook their heads. "We're pooped, Mr. Vash," Millie spoke up. "It's almost evening anyways. We just want to sleep." Meryl nodded her agreement. 

The gunman helped the two women put away their luggage, then the three of them laid down to sleep. He waited until he was sure that both women were deep asleep before he made his move.

Once again dressed in the clothes that Meryl had bought for him, Vash quietly let himself out of the room through the door. Patting his two shoulder holsters to reassure himself that his pistols were available, he half walked half jogged through the hotel.

When he arrived at the plant, it was still several hours before dawn. After looking around to reassure himself that Wolfwood was nowhere nearby, the tall, blonde man made his way inside. Moving quietly to avoid alerting the plant workers to his presence, he made his way to the center of the installation.

Shutting the steel door behind himself, the gunman looked up at the massive egg-shaped construct in the center of the room. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he walked over to it, touching his hand to it's side.

__

I need to speak with you, he sent the thought.

Through the milky cloudiness of the tank, a delicate hand touched the glass on the other side, as though trying to touch him. _I haven't seen you in a while, Brother_, the plant's voice was a whisper in his mind. _To you I owe my life and my thanks. You gave me energy when no one else could._

Vash allowed the warmth of her thanks to wash through them. _I am sorry to interrupt you, Sister, but I need guidance._

The cloudiness dispersed somewhat, allowing Vash to look upon the plant's body. Off of her arms were wings which, when added to her delicate appearance, gave her the look of an angel. Although he couldn't see hair color, or eye color, and though she seemed exceedingly pale, there was no doubt as to either her femininity or the personality he was sensing.

The next thought to come across their bond was laughter. _One of the freeborn seeking guidance from one of us?_

You have lived for centuries longer than I, Vash reminded her. _It is from that experience and knowledge that I need help._

She opened her hands and shrugged. _Then ask what you will, and I will see how I can answer._

Vash took a moment to collect himself, then began. _Several months ago, I allowed my brother to die._

Do not mince words, the female plant almost sounded harsh in her rebuke. _You were responsible for his death. You caused it, not allowed it._

The gunman winced and looked at his feet, allowing his hand to drop to his side. _It is so._

Now she waved her hand. _This is no news to us. We felt him die._ She paused._ And yet, we feel him live._

Vash jerked his eyes back up to look at the plant. _Then he still lives._

She nodded. _Fortunately, yes. Unfortunately, yes._

Fortunately and unfortunately?

Now it was the plant's turn to pause._ Even though he has spoken with us, your brother has never allowed himself to see truth. In his delusional hatred of mankind, he believes that we should also hate them._

Then it is not so?

No. We do not hate. We realize that we were made for this purpose, and we are content to fulfill that purpose. The ghost of a smile crossed her lips. _All of those who live outside of time are in agreement on this. It falls to you to prevent what he would do. If he succeeds, he takes from us our purpose. That purpose is all we have. _

Vash nodded and reached to touch the glass once again. _That is our charge to you_, she continued. _Do not allow our purpose to be taken from us. You must go with this man, Wolfwood, who was your friend. You must stop Knives. Somehow._

The gunman nodded resignedly. _It will be._

The cloud once again obscured his sight of his sister. He turned to leave, then looked back. "No matter the cost to me, it will be. I swear to you, I will take care of everything."

When he got back outside, the first light of dawn was just beginning to color the horizon. There, right in front of the door, stood Nicholas Wolfwood, leaning on the side of a car.

"I knew you would be here, Vash the Stampede," he said quietly, puffing on a cigarette. "I was also pretty sure that you would go in there to talk to _her_. Are you ready to go?"

Vash nodded and took a couple of steps forward. "And you swear not to harm the women?"

Wolfwood waved his hand. "As long as they stay asleep in the room where you left them, and they stay away from us, they will be unharmed."

The taller, blonde man brushed past the ex-priest and climbed in the passenger seat of the car. "Lets get going, then," he said. "You should know that those two are persistent."

The other man climbed into the driver's side, and in moments the car roared to life. It had just disappeared over the horizon when, to the side of the plant complex, another engine roared to life and headlights snapped on.

"Keep your eyes open, Millie," Meryl told her friend as she shifted the car into gear. "It's time for us to go."


	16. Knives' Trophies

When Meryl and Millie crested yet another dune, they saw ahead of them a miniature city made of tents. Both women gave the caravan a long look before looking at each other.

"What do you think, Millie?" the short, dark haired woman asked her friend.

The big girl thought for a moment. "I don't know, Meryl. If Mr. Vash and Mr. Priest came through here, those people must have seen something . . ."

Meryl smiled. "But . . ."

Millie grinned back at her. "But I remember how much fun we had last time we saw a caravan."

After thinking for another few moments, Meryl nodded. "We'll ask someone. If you want, you can stay with the car."

The taller woman turned and looked out the windshield. "Thanks, Meryl. Let's go."

With a roar, the car leapt forward, careening from dune to dune as though Vash were driving it. People standing near the edge of the massive camp started shouting and pointing before they began to run out of the way of a vehicle that appeared to be out of control.

In what seemed an impossible maneuver, Meryl brought the car to a skidding halt just at the edge of the camp. Almost before it had stopped moving, the short woman was opening the door and jumping out. She made a beeline for the nearest person she could see.

Meryl leveled her signature glare at the poor man, nearly smiling when he took an involuntary step backward. "I need to see the head of security immediately," she snapped, somewhat mad that she was no longer sure as to the direction Vash and Wolfwood were heading.

The shabbily dressed man wasted no time in turning and nearly running toward the security office. Meryl hurried to keep up with him, and ducked inside the tent that he indicated.

Behind the wooden crates that doubled as a desk sat a somewhat heavyset man. Without even introducing herself, she leaned onto the desk and glared at the man. She had found in the past that to get results, the best thing for her to do was look angry. Really, she didn't know why it scared so many people when she got mad; she was such a nice person, it really didn't make sense to her. Oh, well. Whenever Vash got "The Glare" as he called it, he usually deserved it.

Even the caravan's head of security was taken aback by the look she gave him. "What can I do for you, Miss?"

"I'm looking for two men," she answered smartly, not letting her glare waver. "Both of them are tall; one has dark hair and was carrying a large cross. The other has tall blonde hair and was armed with two large pistols. Have you seen them?"

The fat man thought for a moment. "Well, yes, we have," he said. "But why should I tell you where they went? For all I know, you might be trying to kill them."

Meryl crossed her arms and stood up straight. "For your information, the blonde man is my fiancé, and the other man is my friend's lover. Are you going to tell me, or not?"

Now, the fat man leered at here. "That depends on what you and your friend will do for me." His lip curled as he looked at her suggestively.

Meryl's glare turned into a sickened look. "You," she said, as though she were a judge passing a sentence, "are a very sick man."

She uncrossed her arms, and had two derringers pointed at the head of security's head before he could blink. "I'm willing to forget what you just said," she informed him matter-of-factly, "but if you do not tell me how to find my fiancé, I will just have to shoot you and ask someone else."

The head of security swallowed the large lump in his throat and began to sweat profusely. "Okay," he said, pulling a map out of a drawer, "sure. You need to head towards these mountains. They were driving directly towards this pass between the two largest."

Meryl took a close look at the map, then turned half-away. "How long ago did you see them?" she asked carefully, tucking the two small pistols back into their holsters in her cape.

Obviously happy that the two weapons were no longer pointed at him, the fat man sat back in his chair. "They left about two hours ago," he told her. "Stopped to get some water and food, then just took off. The blonde guy didn't look very happy."

Quickly taking her leave, Meryl practically ran back to the car, where Millie was still sitting inside. "Two hours," the dark haired woman muttered. "We're only two hours behind."

The car's tires spun in the sand for a moment before they caught some traction, and the car once again sped off. "We're pretty close to where Mr. Vash is heading, aren't we, Meryl?" Millie asked.

"That's right, Millie. I just can't understand how they managed to gain two hours on us. All I can think of is that Vash must be driving now."

__

The blonde man looked at him through round, dirty glasses, his hair hanging down to his shoulders. He wore dirty jeans, a battered shirt, and suspenders, but carried a huge pistol. "Thou shall not kill, remember? What the hell kind of churchman are you?"

Vash took his eyes off of the road for a split second, looking at Wolfwood when he murmured something. When the man was awake, he couldn't see anything of his friend in there but, when he saw him sleeping, he could hardly believe that he had died. The darker haired man murmured something more and shifted in his seat

__

He pushed the doors of the church open, leaning heavily on his cross. "I hope you don't mind me barging in like this. In spite of the profession, I've never actually made a confession before." He spoke for another few moments before collapsing to his knees, still leaning on his cross as he both felt and saw the lifeblood draining out of him. "I did not want to die this way!" he cried, his head tilted toward the church's ceiling.

The blonde gunman slammed on the breaks when Wolfwood cried out. The dark haired man sat up straight, fear in his eyes.

"Why did you say that?" The Humanoid Typhoon demanded, leaning on the steering wheel. 

The ex-priest took a moment to regain his composure, then straightened the dark sunglasses he wore. "It's nothing," he said gruffly. "Just dreams. Keep heading towards the pass in the mountains. We'll be there soon." He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

Vash gave the car some gas, and sped off. His mind was in a whirl. _Why would he say that? That was the last thing I heard Wolfwood say; his last words were to tell God that he didn't want to die like he had. How could this clone know that? How could he remember?_

The car moved on in silence, with Vash driving a little slower. When they had first left Inepril City, he had known that he wouldn't be able to shake Meryl and Millie and so he decided that as long as they were following, he shouldn't make it difficult for them. Wolfwood, on the other hand, had driven like he had a demon on his tail, and so Vash was unsure as to whether Meryl and Millie were actually still behind them.

Wolfwood was wide awake fifteen minutes later, when he ordered Vash to stop the car in front of the cliff below the mountain pass. They walked along the wall of rock until they came to a hole in the sand. The ex-priest opened a metal door and motioned for Vash to go in first, then followed.

Immediately inside, Vash recognized the airlock of the ship he once called home. "Where will we find Knives?" he asked quietly, running his flesh and blood hand along the bulkhead.

"In his trophy room," Wolfwood answered shortly, closing the airlock behind them and then leading the way down the corridor. They walked for several minutes before they arrived at their destination. During the walk, Vash spend his time in silence, remembering the layout of the ship and the time that he and a seemingly innocent Knives had spent with Rem.

Wolfwood came to a stop at the entrance to the ships massive cryo chamber. "He's waiting inside," the clone said.

Vash dropped his hands to his sides, checking that both of his pistols were available and clear in their holsters. He squared his shoulders and picked his sunglasses off of his nose before slapping the door's activation plate. The room was dark; all the blonde gunman could see was shadows upon shadows.

He stepped through the open door with Wolfwood a step behind him. The door swished shut behind them. 

"Hello, Vash." To the average eye, the voice was disembodied. Vash, however, could see the darker shadow of Knives sitting down about forty feet ahead of him. At his brother's words, Vash felt a rush of déjà vu. "Did the human's treat you well? Did you have fun, dear Brother?"

Vash, conscious of Wolfwood's presence, adopted a gunfighter's stance. "Yes, actually."

The lights snapped on to full, giving Vash his first full view of the room. What he saw took his breath away and nearly sent him to his knees.

Nearly all of the cryo tubes were full, but none of them had lights running on their control panels. Over five thousand people were there, he knew. And they were all dead. The cryo tubes were no longer held in their racks, but had been stacked along the walls like boxes of dolls. Vash felt sick as he remembered sitting in the cryo bay control room, watching all of these people sleep while he talked to Rem.

His eyes fell on Knives, sitting next to a small white table in the middle of the room with a glass of champagne next to him. "Do you like my collection?" Vash's younger brother asked with a laugh. "We watched them for so long, I find that I enjoy having them around me as a reminder. Rem tried to use them to teach us about _human_ hope and tenacity. I learned a different lesson."

As he said that, the younger plant waved his hand towards the sky over his head, revealing more cryo tubes, these ones suspended overhead. Ten tubes formed a semicircle, and the still darkened eleventh and twelfth tube was suspended in the middle. Vash's expression hardened, but his stomach twisted as he read the names.

Monev The Gale, Dominique the Cyclops, E.G. Mine, Rai Dei the Blade, Leonov the Puppetmaster, Gray the Ninelives, Hoppard the Gauntlet, Zazie the Beast, Caine the Longshot, and Legato Bluesummers were the names on the labels on the bottom of each of the ten cryo tubes. The knife in Vash's gut twisted as he recognized the reality of each face with each name, seeing the wounds that he knew had killed them.

"I learned the futility, the hopelessness of human life. I learned that without us, they are nothing. And I used him to teach you. She was just a bonus." Knives gestured again, and the eleventh tube lit up.

Vash didn't even get the chance to read the name before seeing the face sent him to his knees. "You _bastard," _he choked on the words. He clenched his eyes shut and felt tears squeeze out. "Damn you, Knives!" He raised his now tear-streaked face to look at the cryo tubes. "Damn, you," he whispered, reading the two names and feeling his heart drop into his feet as he recognized their validity.

Rem Saverem. Nicholas Wolfwood. Those were the names on the tubes.


End file.
